Lady Hermione
by Medantha
Summary: Hermione is not who she says she is. As she sits in the boat headed to the Hogwarts castle, worries weigh heavily in her mind. Worries of what the future may hold and how her secret could affect it.
1. Chapter 1

This is the first thing that I have ever posted on this website. I am kind of guessing and working through example on how everything works around here. I intend on this being multi-chapter so don't worry if you're confused. Answers will come.

Rated K. (I'm not sure if this will change or not later on as the story progresses)

I could not have made up these amazing characters and what-not, so I obviously do not own anything here.

* * *

Hermione took in as much of the surroundings as was possible in the darkness. The boat was being pulled slowly across the black water towards the castle in the distance. It rose above the trees of the forest, a spectacle of lights as candles were lit and put out in various windows of the castle. She could feel that it was going to be exactly as her father had said; It would be the best memories of her lifetime.

Thinking about her father made the skin on her arms crawl. What if she weren't chosen for Slytherin? What if she let him down? Gryffindor seemed to be full of people with good character and she would thrive in that house, but the thought of what her father would do to her if she was placed in that house was beyond what she desired to imagine at the moment.

Her thoughts kept coming back to the houses and her worries were continuously restored. She felt almost emotionally battered by the depth of the worries within her. Even if she was in Slytherin, she would get along with Gryffindors best. It showed by how she acted on the train. When the timid boy named Neville had come into her compartment asking about his lost toad. She felt a pull to help the nervous boy. When she had come into the compartment where Harry and Ron had been sitting, she recognized Harry immediately from the many years of having him pointed out to her by her father.

She had become really panicked when she realized that Harry could possibly not be as evil as her father insisted. She could become friends with a boy like that. She ranted as she poured out the story she had prepared about her muggle family. When he had introduced himself, she had acted surprised but her acting was terribly overdone. They probably thought she was psychotic, although, knowing the things she had seen and done, she could very well be. She didn't lie when she said she knew everything about Harry. She had been forced to study every aspect of him to great lengths throughout her life by her father. It was crucial for her to know him well if she were to be mediator between him and death.

She had suddenly understood why she was truly meant to come to the school, and why she was taught everything about Harry Potter. Her father had meant for them to get along. To get along until that chance when she held sway over his fate. He would need to feel secure around her until she had the right opportunity to finish off her father's greatest threat. Immediately, she pushed into the topic of houses to cement what they could be thinking about her. If she said she wanted to be in Gryffindor, whatever house she ended up in, she would be easier to befriend.

She had no idea that shortly after this, Ron had had the same worries about if he was to be in Slytherin. Some families were very strict on the unity of house placement within their own families. A Slytherin family would shun a child in Gryffindor and likely, vice versa.

The memory of what had occurred on the train was halted when finally, the boats came to a stop and they all clamored out onto the pebbled ground in the darkness.


	2. Chapter 2

Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter or any of the other characters for that matter.

* * *

It was during Charms class when she discovered her inate ability to manipulate people. She noticed that Ron was saying the charm wrong, he had been expressing the wrong part of "_Wingardium Leviosa_". She pictured herself as a mighty Queen who looked down at the people around her. She had learned this acting trick from a girl she had met in the muggle elementary school to get into character. From this pedistal in her mind, she turned to Ron and said, "You're saying it wrong. It's Wing-_gar-_dium Levi-_o_-sa, make the '_gar_' nice and long."

She could have easily done the charm without even saying the incantation aloud, but she was trying to blend in not draw too much attention to herself. The feather fluttered off the desktop and floated high above everyone's heads.

"Oh, well done! Everyone see here, Miss Granger's done it!" cried the funny stout of a man, Professor Flitwick. It was easy to show off just enough to prove she is better at magic than any of them, but without causing any questions to arise. Everyone seemed impressed by the show of such simple magic. She could not imagine what they would do if they saw her last night in the forbidden forest.

Hermione had received her first letter from her father. Her adoptive muggle parents had been writing her nearly everyday, asking about every detail of her life within the wizarding world, but this was the first from her biological father. It only said:

_Find me among the trees. _

_I will be waiting._

Into the forest she went, just after nightfall. She used an old tracking spell that used to be used for hunting purposed. It led her far into the forest and there, in a secret place where moonlight shone through the canopy of the trees and a babbling brook interupted the silence of the forest, he waited.

He had always come in different forms. Sometimes he shared the flesh of a shopkeeper from Knockturn Alley, sometimes he used the body of a bartender from a wizards pub, but this time, he came to her on the back of the head of a Professor. She had known he was there since the very first day, but it was dangerous to speak with him where anyone could overhear. She didn't need to talk to him, she knew it was him from the smell, from how the turban sat on Professor Quirrell's head. The moonlight poured over the stretched lines in the skin that covered the back of the Professor's head. A face that had brought terror to many, nearly as terrible as the face of death himself.

Her father's mouth turned upwards into a slow smile. "You made it. I wasn't sure if you could get out of the castle. Although, you are my daughter. This is for you." A deer stepped into the moonlight of the clearing. It was tall and graceful, but struggled to pull against the magical bondages that held it captive. Hermione moved slowly closer to the deer and lifted a hand to run it over the smooth pelt. She could feel the life within the deer stir under her touch. It was as if the deer knew what was to come. _I must prove I am capable to serve him. _In a gust of wind created by the quickness of her movements, Hermione backed up so there was a significant distance between the deer and herself. She drew to the eye level of the deer and said a quick prayer for the unfortunate creature, before she raised her wand. "_Avada Kedavra_!"

She had uttered the incantation only when it was pointed to an animal, but there was the familiar pull that tried to have her turn and yell out the curse to her father. She would have, but the time was not right. He would simply return in one way or another. She would have to wait and see if the prophecy was correct or not. Harry Potter would pave the road and she would travel across it after it was completed to bring death upon the terribly evil wizard.

The Charms class had come to an end and Hermione picked up her books to follow the flow of witches and wizards leaving the classroom. She walked just behind Harry and Ron. She remembered that she had acted superior to them and she would need to seem nice to give her the right bipolarity between being egotistical and friendly. They wouldn't ask questions if they thought she had issues. She would have to get them to sit with her at the Gryffindor table if she could.

"It's no wonder no one can stand her," said Ron spitefully to Harry, "she's a nightmare, honestly." There was a slight twinge of pain, but instead of pushing it away, Hermione took advantage of the situation. Screwing her face into one of hurt, she sped up her pace and passed Ron and Harry. They would notice that she had heard them and feel bad. They would try to make up for it and that is when she would draw them into her psychological trap.

A slow smile drew over her face. Sometimes, she figured she was more clever than even her father.


	3. Chapter 3

A/N: Whenever Lord Voldemort held a meeting with the Death Eaters at the Malfoy Manor, Hermione and Draco would play together. This is the first time they have spoken since arriving at Hogwarts. I really wanted Draco and Hermione to have history together and I figured childhood friends is one of the more classic ideas. Not seeing each other for three years has certainly taken a toll on the relationship though.

Disclaimer: I own none of this.

* * *

It had been a while where Hermione began to feel comfortable spinning this web of lies. Most of the time, she would actually forget who she really was and just lived as any other young girl enrolled at Hogwarts. Of course, there were instances when she felt she would be found out for sure. At the end of her first year, she worried that her father would spill her secret in his rage of being defeated by Harry. The stone was a great prize for her father and she would be able, for the first time, see who he really was. She knew that he was terrifying in appearance and a powerful force that nearly everyone, save Dumbledore, feared for many years when his throne was at its most powerful. She had only seen him on the back of some stranger's head. She had no idea what colour his eyes were or how tall he was.

There was much concern during her second year at Hogwarts when the Chamber of Secrets had been opened. Fate had, once again stopped her from meeting the real face of her father in the Chamber. But her concern lied more with the fact that Harry was being accused of being the heir of Slytherin, and in reality she was Slytherin's heir. She understood Harry when he spoke to the snake during his duel with Draco. She knew that Ron's sister, Ginny had been possessed. She had assisted in creating the Polyjuice potion that would prove Draco's innocence.

Draco was a real concern of hers since the beginning of that first year. He was not the boy she used to know. When they met up in the hallways, he acted exactly as she had told him to in the summer before the first school year began. Draco's father had been called, along with the rest of the Death Eaters, by her father for a meeting to explain the situation for her. It was simple. She would go to school and pose as a Muggle-born (not that that was the term that her father used). She would say that the Grangers were her real parents and no one should suspect that they were not.

When Hermione ran into him at school, a space within her heart felt hollow and empty, as though something had gone missing. It was from the feeling that she had lost his friendship. It hurt to have him refer to her as a "mudblood" when all through their childhoods they had grown together. She didn't know anyone nearly as well as she knew Draco and with all those memories of running around the Malfoy Manor while their fathers discussed dark things in a dark room, she hoped that he wouldn't be quite so harsh with his words with her.

Hermione stood in front of the Slytherin common room entrance. She wasn't invisible, but no one would notice her through her charm. A Slytherin first-year hummed to herself as she approached the entrance. She said the password too quietly for her to hear, but the door swung open and Hermione followed the girl inside. The girl ran off to a group of first-years in a corner of the common room, but Hermione kept a straight course for the stairs. She climbed the staircase that led to the boys' dormitories and passed Blaise as he left one of the dormitories. She decided that that one would be a good place to start. Once she opened the door, scooped a textbook from the nearest chest, and flipped to the first page, she saw the name "Draco Malfoy" scrawled at the top. She smiled to herself. Her intuition had yet to fail her.

She sat up on the four-poster bed thinking about the way things were before. Draco and her would spend hours imagining that they were in a battle for power over the world. She would always pretend to be the dark Lord, trying to take over the wizarding world, and Draco would always be the legendary Harry Potter, come to push the dark Lord off his throne.

The door opened and Draco slipped inside the room and turned to face his bed. Hermione wished away the enchantment and he jumped slightly as he finally noticed her. She stood up and waited for his reaction.

"My Lady." He bowed his head as he greeted her respectfully.

"Hello, Draco."

Remaining on the other side of the room, he observed her curiously, waiting for her to explain herself.

"You've changed so much."

"You've been busy with your Gryffindor life. You, of all people, I wouldn't have expected to be a Gryffindor," he pointed out resentfully, eyebrows raised.

"The hat-all I had to do was ask, and it put me in Gryffindor. This is what the dark Lord wanted."

"Of course, he wanted you to get close to Potter," his face screwed up a bit when he said 'Potter'. It was as if the name was disgusting to say.

Hermione raised a hand and pointed to Draco, as though actually pointing out what he had said. "That's what I mean. Do you remember what you used to be like? You knew everything about him. Always talking about how you wondered what it must be like to be him or even to be able to know the one who was powerful enough to take down the dark Lord before he could even say a spell."

"It must have been a fluke. Potter is nothing great at all," he said disappointedly.

Hermione closed some of the space between them. She locked eyes with him and slowly expressed, "I understand you better than anyone, Draco. You're mad because you looked up to him all that time and it turned out he didn't like you. You're just jealous of him."

"I am not jealous of him." His tone was defensive, but it didn't sway her from her reasoning.

She pushed a piece of her brown hair away from her face and smiled. "I'm thinking you are."

"I am not jealous of him," Draco insisted, raising his voice slightly.

Her smile slipped off her face slowly but cleanly. "Anyway, besides Harry, there are other ways that you've changed. Like how you look down on everyone. You used to be so excited to be going to Hogwarts, but now you just seem miserable all the time."

Draco looked surprised to hear her say this. "Not that you would know what I'm like all the time. We haven't actually spoken in three years," he said defiantly.

"Draco, don't say that. You know that it's dangerous to be coming to see you, and you made as much of an effort to see me," Hermione reasoned.

"You're right though. You are the only one who really gets me. Huh, I guess there's no way I could stay mad at you. I've sort of missed having you analyze me." What he really wanted to say, he couldn't. It had been three years and they would have to basically get to know each other all over again. It was possible that they could go back to how they were before, but he couldn't expect much for the time being.

Hermione swept forward and placed a small fluttery kiss on his pale cheek. "I have missed you, too." She pulled the enchantment back over herself. The air stirred as she left the room, having one last look at the boy still staring at the spot where she had been.


	4. Chapter 4

Disclaimer: No ownage here :)

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Hermione had begun appearing in Draco's dormitory every few days or so. They would sit up and talk for hours until someone came in to go to sleep, then she would disappear. Sometimes, they caught glances of one another in the hallways. Each time, Hermione felt her heart swoop in her chest. At night, she began dreaming about his smooth face and silvery blond hair.

He tried to avoid speaking to her outside of their secret visits. Whenever they did, he always had to go along with the character that she pretended to be. He grew to become accustomed to that familiar feeling of stabbing hatred whenever he saw Harry with her. The way he saw things, Harry had no right to be anywhere near Hermione. He had been harbouring many sorts of anger lately. Mostly, anger at how everyone treated her.

Draco came marching up the hallway and stopped a few paces behind where Pansy and the other Slytherin girls stood. His eyes took in the situation.

'_Stunningly pretty? Her?' _Pansy Parkinson shrieked, it was the first time she had come face to face with Hermione after Rita's article had appeared. 'What was she judging against - a chipmunk?'

Pansy looked over her shoulder at Draco to give him a proud little smile. Draco barely noticed, instead he watched for Hermione's reaction. 'Ignore it,' Hermione said in a dignified voice to Harry, who walked beside her, she held her head in the air and stalked past the sniggering Slytherin girls as though she couldn't hear them. 'Just ignore it, Harry.'

Pansy moved to Draco's side and latched onto his arm. 'I guess she thinks she's the prettiest girl in the school now. That's what I'm here for - to put her in her place. Right Draco, to the place where all mudbloods belong.' Draco didn't say anything at all. He didn't bother to shrug Pansy off of him. He only wanted desperately to see Hermione. He wanted to tell her that he thought she was stunningly pretty and it didn't matter what they said.

Hermione jumped onto her usual spot on the four-poster bed, crossing her legs beneath her in an Indian style. Draco fell backwards across the bed and stared at his ceiling. He contemplated telling her how he felt about her, but he had also considered what that would do. If by some miracle she felt the same, how long could they go with keeping it secret. If anyone found out, it would not only make his life difficult but, more importantly, her's as well. So with the feeling of falling onto a flagstone floor from the top of the Gringotts Bank without a wand, he opened his mouth and said, 'You know the ball that's coming up?'

'Yeah,' she said warily. Then while he took a deep breath in she asked, 'What's on your mind, Draco?'

'Well, Pansy asked me to go with her. I figured I should ask you first. You know, for your opinion.' Pansy hadn't really asked him. She just started talking about what they should wear and using 'we' in reference to the ball. That girl was so caught up in herself, she would think they were dating even if he walked around in a 'I Hate Pansy' shirt.

Hermione sat silent for a while. She couldn't understand why he would do that. He didn't need to ask for her permission, or her 'opinion' as he put it. Unless, he wanted to make sure that she wouldn't be upset with him for bringing someone to the Yule Ball. She was a little upset, but it was more that they couldn't go together rather than that he was bringing someone else. Of course, she wished it wasn't Pansy. She knew that if it were anyone, it would be her though. It was the way that Pansy acted as though they were dating. A thought struck her, _what if they are dating?_

'I don't see why not.' She said finally, even if she could see why not all too clearly.

That night, Hermione slept erratically and restlessly, haunted with dreams of Draco and Pansy dancing and laughing while she stood alone, crying.


	5. Chapter 5

A/N: In this chapter, Hermione takes a bath, Draco explains his true feelings towards Pansy, and he tries a bold move that could lead to a complicated future. I wanted a little one on one time with Draco and Hermione and thought, what better secret meeting place than a bathroom! Please review. :)

Disclaimer: I don't claim to own any of this.

* * *

It had been a long day, but Hermione let the heat of the water wash away the stress. The prefects' bathroom was quiet allowing every slight swish of the water echo off the high stone walls. She jumped when there was a soft knock at the door.

'Hermione?' The voice was one that she recognized immediately to be Draco's.

'I'm in the bath, Draco.' she said pointedly.

Draco did not seem deterred by this, instead his voice was serious. 'I need to talk to you. Can I come in?'

This should have been strange to Hermione, but she knew she would trust him with her life if the situation had aroused. Because of this, she said, 'Yeah, sure.' However, to be on the safe-side, she picked up her wand from the ledge of the bath and quickly enchanted the water to fill with bubbles.

Draco came in but did not look at her. He kept his eyes transfixed on the floor. He sat on the ledge of the bath with his back to her. He was a gentleman when he wanted to be. It occurred to Hermione that perhaps, this was not what she wanted. She shoved the thought out with mental shouts that he was an old friend, an 'enemy' of Harry's, and she was in Gryffindor. There was another reason that that would be a bad idea, but she barely had time to think it before she was distracted by the grim look that Draco's face had taken on.

"So, what are you interrupting my bath for?" Hermione questioned.

"I needed to talk to you. I asked Harry where you were," he glanced at Hermione's face and saw the immediate shock then continued, "Don't worry. I asked in a sort of offhanded way. It sounded more like I was taunting him."

Hermione sunk into the water a little further and contemplated whether it was a good thing that he was mean to Harry or not. Draco sighed. "I need to talk to you about Pansy. Look, I don't actually want to bring her to the ball, but I obviously can't take you. Pansy just assumed that we would go and I can't go alone. I mean, I could, but you know how the Slytherin's see me. It wouldn't look good to go alone. I just want you to understand that. I don't want you mad at me."

Hermione hesitated to think it over. "Alright, I will forgive you for going to the ball with Pansy if you pass me that bottle over there. It has my shampoo in it." Draco spotted the bottle as an idea dawned on him. His heart jumped in his chest but that didn't stop him from grabbing the bottle and squirting a dab of the shampoo into his open palm. He rotated and slid behind where Hermione rested in the bubbles. He brought his hands above her head to rest just his fingertips on the crown of her head. She breathed in quietly but didn't move away from him.

He massaged the shampoo into her hair, which was sleek and wet. She looked entirely different with her hair straight and darker from the water. He lathered her entire head for much longer than was necessary, but eventually he lowered his hands. "I have to go. I see you next time you feel like showing up in my dorm."

Nothing was more was said as he rinsed his hands and left the prefects' bathroom. Hermione let herself submerse beneath the water, where the water filled the space where silence had rested around her ears. She let the quiet of the water mingle with the cloud of confusion that had taken hold of her.


	6. Chapter 6

A/N: This chapter was tricky to write, so it took me some time. I really wanted the Yule Ball to signify a turning point in the relationship between Draco and Hermione. Here it is. Enjoy!

Disclaimer: This is J.K. Rowling's stuff. I own none of it.

* * *

Draco, arm in arm with Pansy, strutted through the entrance of the hall. He wasn't sure if he would have a good time or if he would become miserable as the night progressed, but the excitement vibrating throughout the school was very contagious.

Pansy gave Draco a girlie smile. 'You look very handsome in those robes, Draco Darling.' He took a second glance at the black velvet robes he was dressed in.

He looked Pansy up and down and without thinking over the lie he said, 'Yes, you look very beautiful tonight as well.'

She turned her nose up and lifted her eyebrows. 'Yes.' Draco turned so she couldn't see his face and scowled. _This night will likely be a miserable one after all,_ he thought. Then suddenly, he didn't care what Pansy was doing, he could barely think at all because right at that moment, he spotted the girl next to Krum. It was Hermione! That scruffy, slow, and ridiculously famous Quidditch player was the one she had chosen to go with instead of him. But, that wasn't the only thing he noticed. There was something different about Hermione. Her hair was as sleek as it had been soak with water, but it was brighter and pulled back into an elegant twist. She wore soft blue robes, and she seemed as light on her feet as the material of her robes. She was absolutely beautiful, and although he had always had a great respect for her, she never looked more like a Lady than she did now. He fought the urge to run to her to kiss her hand and offer his life in servitude to her.

He couldn't take his eyes off of her. He followed her elegant steps as she danced. He stared grudgingly as she talked and flirted with Krum during dinner. He focused on the sway of her body while she danced to The Weird Sisters.

Hermione had been thoroughly enjoying herself all evening. She somehow seemed to charm Krum. Everyone was impressed by her appearance. Draco couldn't look away from her. She felt exactly how she was meant to feel, beautiful, admired, and practically worshiped. She allowed herself to relax from her stumped, slouched posture that had become her saving grace when she wanted to disappear in the hallways into the elegance she maintained while around her father and the Death Eaters. Everything changed when she saw Harry and Ron off to the side. Particularly Ron, who was basically seething. She had always suspected that he liked her and had gone along with it. Playing the role of the the girl doomed to fall for the boy with the terrible attitude. It was easy to pretend she liked Ron because she felt like she was currently in Shakespeare's Twelfth Night, playing Viola, posing as Cesario, in love with Duke Orsino, and mistakenly loved by Olivia, whom would be played by Ron.

She took an empty seat next to Harry, who said, 'Hi.'

'It's hot, isn't it?' said, fanning herself. It was from all the dancing.'Viktor's just gone to get some drinks.'

Ron gave her an undeniably sour look.

'_Viktor?'_ he said." Hasn't he asked you to call him _Vicky_ yet?'

Ron could be cruel went he wanted to be. She was shocked at how obviously jealous he was acting. Although, she doubted he was acting at all.

'What's up with you?' she said.

'If you don't know,' said Ron scathingly, 'I'm not going to tell you.' Not that he had to.

Harry shrugged, probably feeling out of place. "Ron, what-?' he started.

'He's from Durmstrang!' spat Ron. 'He's competing against Harry! Against Hogwarts! You - you're -' Ron was obviously casting around for words to describe Hermione's crime, which they both knew was actually that went with someone other than himself. '_fraternizing with the enemy,_ that's what you're doing!'

Hermione was more amazed at Ron's use of vocabulary rather than how incredibly rude he was being.

'Don't be so stupid!' she said after a moment. 'The _enemy_!' The only enemy was herself, but they didn't know that. She wasn't even sure that was what she wanted to be. 'Honestly - who was the one who wanted his autograph? Who's got a model of him up in their dormitory?'

Ron chose to ignore this, 'I s'pose he asked you to come with him while you were both in the library?'

'Yes, he did,' she blushed in spite of herself, 'So what?'

'What happened - trying to get him to join _spew_, were you?'

She was an heiress to a dark throne. She was the daughter of the most feared wizard of all time. She didn't need this. She allowed him a little more time for their fight to escalate before she finally lost it. When she left, she had stormed off with the intention to find Viktor. Instead, fuming from the string of insults directed at her by a red-headed moron with no idea who he was talking to, she smashed head first into Draco who carried two large glasses of water. The water sprayed everywhere. Some people turned to look at the damage, but no one was interested in spilled drinks when there was music blasting.

With a quick double-check that no one was watching, Hermione said a small incantation in her head, making the water and the glasses disappear. Draco gave her a look of pure awe.

She tried to duck around him. 'I have to get out of here.'

Draco grasped her elbow gently. 'What's wrong?'

'Not here, Draco.' She said triple-checking the people around them.

He slid his hand from her elbow and down to grab her hand. He pulled her behind the crowd and outside. They raced around a corner where they wouldn't be seen. Hermione could hear crickets just barely through the muffled music bounding throughout the hall they had left and the moonlight glowed brighter than the lights from inside.

"Why do you have to be informed whenever I'm in a bad mood?" she pleaded. The last hing she wanted to do was explain the whole situation with Ron.

Draco mimed thinking over the question then said, "Because...after you tell me what's ruined your night, I may be able to help you forget about it."

"That sounds very charming coming from you, but I'm not sure if-"

He cut her off. "You know that if there was one person you could tell anything to, it would be me. I know you, top to bottom, inside and out, and probably better than you think I do."

"Well, I suppose you're right," Hermione reconciled, "But don't blame me if I ruin your night, too."

"I won't play the blame game. Go ahead," he encouraged in a softer tone.

"It's just that, Ron likes me. Which would be fine, if it didn't mean that he turns scarily defensive and slightly abusive every time he talks to me. The only way to counter it is to act like I'm equally defensive and slightly abusive, which clearly makes it seem like I like him in return, when actually..."

"You don't," Draco cut in again.

It was not what she was going to say. She was going to say,_ its you that I like most. _But she lost her nerve after he spoke. "Yes."

"If he ever hurts you, you make sure that I'm the first to know," he offered.

"What are you going to do about it?"

"Well, I'm already their arch-enemy. I figure, if anyone could kick his ass for you, I'd be the best man for the job." Draco smiled and Hermione laughed. Draco getting revenge on your behalf was one of the ways that he showed that he cared.

"I'll be sure to let you know, but I could probably kick his ass myself if I wanted to," she smirked mischievously tilting her head.

Draco's smile faltered for a moment. "I can imagine."

She straightened her neck and her shoulders pushed back a little. "You say that like its a bad thing for me to be able to take care of myself. I don't see anything wrong with being independent. Its exactly what my father wanted me to be and given my - unique upbringing, its not like its something that can be changed. I do not appreciate being looked down on by you just because I have the power to take care of myself." The rant flowed through her with ease, as though it was built up over time. Her eyes were reproachful sparks in the dark.

Draco opened his hand out to her and said, "I wouldn't change you in a million years."

Hermione was slightly taken aback by the gesture but when his hand didn't move, she placed her hand in his palm. Without hesitation, he took hold of her other hand and pulled her close. Hermione wasn't sure if it was the closeness of their bodies, the music that continued to echo out from the great hall, or Draco's eyes on her's, but there, in the moonlight, they kissed.


	7. Chapter 7

A/N: Sorry it took me so long to update(It always seems to). I've been really busy and when I wasn't busy, I just couldn't bring myself to sit down and write. I eventually got all my ideas for this chapter out, but I'm not quite done with the fourth book, where the last few chapters have taken place. There is a lot to work with in the fourth book, and I love it for that. So, one more chapter, probably a shorter one, based in the fourth book, then I'll move on. I swear. :) Anyway, I hope you enjoy this chapter.

Disclaimer: I can't even pretend to have owned the Harry Potter books. (Although, I have a theory that J.K. Rowling herself is secretly writing for Fanfiction, so look for Harry Potter stories without a disclaimer ... what a funny thought. =] )

* * *

Hermione ran to the group of people crowded around Harry, giving him advice and wishing him luck. She had almost not made it there in time. She squeezed through the group and Harry turned to face her.

"You have to promise me that you'll be careful," she warned.

"Of course, Hermione. Aren't I always?" He said almost jokingly.

"I'm serious, Harry." She was, too. There was a whisper of a plot. Harry may not make it out of this task alive.

Hermione followed Ron and the others out into the stands. She took her seat and watched nervously as the champions entered the maze. She waited only a few minutes before mentioning she had to go to the bathroom. As she walked away from her seat, she focused on the incantation that would distract Ron from her absence. With everyone in the stands, she didn't have to hide when she spoke the spells that would temporarily release the enchantments of the school.

She apparated just beyond the grounds and restored the enchantments behind her, then she spun on the spot. She was sucked through the vortex and reappeared in a lonesome graveyard dimly lit under the twilight sky. Leaves twirled in the trees, dancing through the wind. Hermione did not move until she saw a shadow shift across the graveyard. Wormtail had arrived.

She disapparated from the street and her robes swirled around her as she popped directly in front of Wormtail, who jumped in surprise.

"Best be careful with your luggage, Wormtail," she advised in a teasing voice.

"Hello, Hermione," greeted a voice from the bundle in Wormtail's arms.

"Hello, father. Feeling better?" she asked, not particularly worried though.

She could hear him as he took a deep breath in. "I will be, after tonight."

She knew exactly what he was planning to do. There was no way to stop him, but if she could help it, she would have to make sure that Harry would survive. Not everything was in place yet for that final battle between the Dark Lord and Harry Potter. That is why she was there, to make sure that Harry survived this night. She had already tried to persuade the Dark Lord against using Harry's blood but that was not a option to him. He seemed determined that it be Harry's blood that he use. He didn't understand what sort of affect that would have on him. But, if her father listened to her, she wouldn't be the Dark Lady and none of this would be her problem. As it stood, she was the Dark Lady, and she did have to work in the background to ensure that everything went smoothly.

Wormtail stared at Hermione as he awaited further instruction. "That tombstone, over there, that is where you need to be watching for Potter."

He bowed and faced in the direction she had pointed to. The bundle wriggled.

"This is your one and only chance to experience what it means to be my heiress. When I am indisposed, you are the one to assume my powerful leadership."

"You've told me this many times, father. I am the heiress and it is my responsibility to control your kingdom when you are away from the throne. I'm like a throne-sitter." She joked somewhat irritated by the regular speech.

"You are lucky, though. Unlike other heirs, you will never have to take over completely, since I will never truly die," he preached, arrogant from his invulnerability. Tonight would be proof of the power of his dark plot. He believed that he had defeated death, and perhaps he had, but he could never defeat her. One day, she would take the throne from him. Today would not be the day.

"It is almost time." His voice was slightly strained from impatience.

Hermione lifted her hand and the hood of Wormtail's cloak pulled over his head, hiding his face. "That tombstone," she said, pointing it out for him, "That is where he will come." Wormtail stood and watched the space around the tombstone attentively. She slipped behind a tree that split into two at the root. They were close enough together that she could not be seen but she could also watch the spot where Harry would soon appear.

There was a flash of blue light; he had come. She raised her wand, ready to take control of the situation if need be. _Something's wrong_, she quickly noticed. There were two shadows. Wormtail had already advanced and stood facing the two shapes silently. A second later, her father's cold, piercing voice echoed through the graveyard. _'Kill the spare_.'

She shot a protective shield towards the two instinctively, but she knew it was futile. The only magic she could never overcome was the killing curse. When a death eater willed someone to meet their death, there was no stopping it. Except for Harry, but that was not from his power. She already knew the secret behind the scar. She felt it whenever she was near Harry. But Harry was not the one who would die tonight. She would do everything in her power to keep him living, but Cedric - Cedric's luck had run out the second he touched the portkey. The wind barley stirred as one of the two shapes fell to the ground. Wormtail would pay for this later.

Wormtail dragged Harry across the dirt and slammed him up against her grandfather's headstone. Tom Riddle senior was no one to her but watching her father's servant tie Harry to her muggle grandfather's headstone stirred an uncomfortable feeling in her solar plexus. There was a gruesome irony about the whole situation. She was too close. She hating seeing Harry bound like that, and she hated that he was surrounded by the distorted branches of her gnarled and disfigured family tree and had no clue whatsoever. She hated herself for being right there and not helping him, but she had no choice. If he knew, she would have no options later. She would be forced to turn from her father and lose the throne or betray Harry and lose her power to Voldemort's control.

Nagini slithered from the site and toward her feet. She lifted her head, to flick her tongue at Hermione, then she slithered farther. She could only go so far before she felt the pull from her master and had to go back to him. She would never be able to surrender her power and service to the Dark Lord to save Harry once. He would only kill him another time, and she would be helpless when that time came. If she did nothing yet, she would remain free. So, nothing was what she did.

Feeling less than free, she watched as the ritual continued.

'_Bone of the father, unknowingly given, you will renew your son!'_

_'Flesh - of the servant - w-willingly given - you will - revive - your master.'_

_'B-blood of the enemy ... forcibly taken ... you will ... resurrect your foe.'_

Again, her conscience tugged at her heart, and it took all of her focus to keep from healing the wound. It was only a little cut, but she felt traitorous. A mist clouded the scene but then a shadow rose out of nowhere. The spell had worked. It was done. The Dark Lord had returned, and she had done nothing to stop it.

The mark, turned invisible from an enchantment she had placed upon it, burned on her arm, black once more. She covered with a mask and pulled her hood up then walked out of the trees. Cloaks swished as the Death Eater's appeared around their Lord. She stood back a bit and looked distainfully at the Death Eaters grovelling at the feet of their master. She did not grovel. It was one of the perks of being the heiress.

She listened intently as he made his speech and scorned them for their disloyalty. That was the one job she didn't bother with: keeping the Death Eaters loyal. She didn't care what happened to them. She didn't flinch when Avery begged for forgiveness and was met with years of pent up rage in the form of torturous pain. But she was shaken to her core at the sight of Wormtail's 'gift'. The silver hand shone ominously in the slight moonlight in the cemetary. That would probably pose to be a problem later on. She shook off her worry and turned her focus back to her father.

He reprimanded Lucius Malfoy and centered out each of the Death Eater's around him, but thankfully skipped over her. He seemed to have decided not to risk letting Harry know who she really was. Her indentity would remain a secret, at least, until she was ready to take the throne and by her hand or not, it would happen one day.

Voldemort carried on, speaking as though the events of the past thirteen years were the epitome of interest. She did not care nearly as much as the Death Eaters did, but eventually he did come to a stop. When he did, he moved slowly forward, and turned to face Harry. He raised his wand. '_Crucio!'_

Hermione gasped, too quiet for anyone to hear, but was rooted to the spot as she could only watch Harry indure the worst pain of his life. She did not - could not move until Voldemort dropped the curse and ordered Harry free and armed. The battle for Harry's life would soon begin.

The duel commensed, starting with a large dose of torture. Harry's screaming split the very air. There was a pause for Harry to recover, granted to him by Voldemort. The Impurius curse momentarily seized Harry's body, but Hermione had seen him defeat it a few times now.

'I WON'T,' he shouted, taking back control of his body. Then just before losing it again to the pain of the Cruciatus curse, he flung himself with incredibly reflexes behind a tombstone.

This was it. When he came out, he would die. There was only one thing that could stop it. One of the many things that the two wizards shared was the phoenix that gave the feathers within their wands. Fate had made this so, and fate just needed a little push.

Time slowed from the second that Harry moved from behind the headstone. He shouted, '_Expelliarmus!'_, Voldemort shrieked, '_Avada Kedavra!'_, and Hermione whispered, '_Priori Incantatem.' _The timing was perfect, when the green light from Voldemort's wand hit the red light from Harry's, the golden light of Priori Incantatem engulfed the two spells, reduring them useless. It consumed the sight of the two enemies joined by their wands in a dome of gold. None of the Death Eater's could see what went on within. Minutes dragged on before there was a shout from inside as Harry yelled, 'NOW!' The connection broke and her father screamed for them to stun him. But he bellowed '_Impedimenta!'_ He did not look and had missed his target, but Hermione took the chance to aim the same spell at a nearby Death Eater. No one noticed as the Death Eater fell. At least there was one less trying to stop him.

'Stand aside! I will kill him! He is mine!' shrieked Voldemort.

Harry grabbed the wrist of the lifeless body of Cedric Diggory, and he summoned the cup to him. Voldemort screamed in fury. The two bodies disappeared in a flash of blue.

The Dark Lord exploded in rage. Fire ingited across the grass of the graveyard, trees splintered around them, and headstones cracked. Every one of the Death Eaters fell to the ground, but Hermione stood her ground. She had to hide her joy at Harry's triumph.

_And someday, he will truly triumph._ She thought, hopeful of the future.


	8. Chapter 8

A/N: Basically, I have a few passionate scenes for Hermione and Draco(no [M] though, sorry.) I also have a number of relaxed scenes for the summer. Rowling never really focused on the summer, but if you think about all those summers in high school spent with your friends, we have to assume that even in the wizarding world, summer is a time for fun. Even if Harry become something of a loner during July and August. Hope you like this little tidbit. This chapter may play a role later on in this story. I also wanted to explore the depth of Snape's feelings for Lily, because it wasn't focused on in the book. _Harry Potter_ wasn't really made for the romance, it was more for the action/adventure, which is what makes it fun to write for. Hope it's fun to read, too. Enjoy! :)

Disclaimer: I would never dream of taking ownership of J.K. Rowling's work. (:

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Draco stood at the door to the potions class. He was leaned up against the wall and was lost in thought.

He had been joking around with Crabbe and Goyle when Harry had pushed past them. He had said something; he couldn't even remember what it had been. Hermione had said to leave Harry alone. Another Slytherin made a comment about Hermione being Harry's girlfriend, and she had exploded. He said some things, trying to get her to back down, but she didn't. She kept going at him, then there was harsh remarks, then yelling, and finally, he had stormed off. It wasn't until he had found his way to the potions' room that he finally cooled down enough to regret showing weakness around the Slytherins, and worse, what he had said to Hermione.

He raised his head when Hermione approached. At first, they said nothing but kept eye contact. The tension between them was apparent. She moved closer to the door as he pushed off the wall with his foot. They stood only a foot apart.

"Hello," he said finally, the tension straining his voice slightly.

"Hello." He lowered his head, letting a stray piece of blond hair drop over his face and breathed in deeply. When he lifted his head, there was a brief glint of emotion in his eye. He stepped towards her and in response, she leaned back against the wall.

"I don't like," he started, moving closer still. Her breath caught. "how you talk to me." He brought his arms up, trapping her in a prison of his arms.

Although her heart had basically stopped in her chest, she spoke smoothly as she retorted, "I don't appreciate how you act towards me."

He frowned and shifted his right arm on the wall. "I have a very important reputation to uphold. In this school, I am a king." He referred to his power in the Slytherin house. He was like a king of sorts. He had many followers and had respect from every one in Slytherin.

"And in the real world, I am a Lady." While his power was obvious to anyone in the school, when he left Hogwarts, he would be a nobody. She would always be the heiress to the dark throne.

"We could help each other out though. I could help you here, and you could help me out there." Apparently, he was not ignorant to the limitations of his control.

"There is nothing I can give you."

"Just give me your time," he pleaded.

It infuriated her that he would even think of suggesting what she knew he was getting at. The way he saw things was that if she was going to remain friends with Harry, she would have to pretend to hate Draco. She was too good at pretending though, and it was hurting his reputation. He was thinking about how beneficial it would be to him to have everyone know their secret. They wouldn't have to pretend anymore, but the consequences of being together outweighed the benefits.

"Okay, I get it, Draco. We were friends - once. Not here though. We can't be. If anyone were to find out, it would have a different effect than you think. Not only would we alienate everyone in the school, but my father will kill you, Draco."

"Why? Who would be better for you than me?"

"He looks down on everyone, including you and your family. No one is good for me in his mind. I can not mingle with servants. I am an heiress." She raised her voice for the last statement, but there was no one in the hallways yet. Class was still in session.

Draco flinched. He looked at her apprehensively. "He looks down on me," he repeated. "Do you look down on me?"

She softened her expression. "If you were a foot shorter, maybe."

He struggled to not smile for a second before giving in. He laughed at her comment. She joined in, and they laughed until the moment passed then they smiled, all previous tension released. Then, he glanced at her lips and back to her eyes as a fair warning before leaning forward to softly touch his lips against hers. They stood together, kissing for what seemed like forever.

"How - unexpected," said a drawling voice. Draco spun away from Hermione to see a very expressionless Snape looking at them. He said nothing else as he passed them and opened the door to the potions room.

Door's flew open down the hallways, and Hermione moved out into the hallway more to put a sufficient distance between her and Draco. There was the sound of shuffling feet as class got out. The hallways filled from wall to wall with students in black robes. In the chaos, Draco slipped into the potions room and sat at his usual seat. Hermione struggled through the crowd and into the room. She needed to speak to Snape, but she was followed by a Slytherin into the classroom. So instead, she took her seat on the Gryffindor's side of the room.

All through the class, the only thing she could think was, _He knows. Snape knows about me and Draco. He served my father. He's going to tell my father. My father will kill him._ She had to do something. Had to talk to him, order secrecy on him. She would not let Snape ruin everything.

She waited anxiously for the end of class. Her thoughts were not on the lesson though, she was too busy thinking of the best approach to take with him. When class was finally dismissed, she didn't even flinch. She kept her eyes focused on Snape and ignored the other Gryffindors' conversations around her. She looked back at the door as the last person, Draco, left the classroom. When the door shut behind him, she stood slowly and took a few paces towards Snape. He looked at her expectantly with his arms crossed in front of him.

"Severus," she addressed, "What you saw-"

He cut her sentence short. "I assume you are going to threaten me, try to persuade me, to not tell the Dark Lord about your little...infatuation."

She felt her lip flinch at the word. She never once thought of her and Draco's relationship as an infatuation. It was deeper than that. Regardless, she said nothing.

"I have no intention of telling him. In all honesty, I don't really care." It was clear that he didn't care, but if her father asked, she couldn't count on him to keep to his declaration of secrecy. She would have to make sure he understood the seriousness of the situation.

"You forget that I am the Dark Lady. I will overlook your impertinence this time, but keep in mind-I am the heiress to the Dark throne for a reason." She paused to let the tension spread throughout the room. Mostly for dramatic effect. "And, I do happen to recall an infatuation of yours when you were in Hogwarts. You mentioned it to my father, but in the end, it hardly mattered to him."

Of course, she was referring to his love for Harry's mother, and how her father didn't care what Snape wanted when he cut the thread of her life.

There was nothing left for him to say, and she didn't give him the chance anyway. She glided out of the silent classroom, trailing an unseen mist of emotion behind her.

Snape sat at his desk at the head of the empty room. He rested his elbows on the oak wood surface and covered his face with his hands. The memories of Lily that forever shadowed his mind took over in all their vividness. His despair resonated in the darkness of the windowless dungeon walls, and Lily's delicate voice echoed from his past, driving a knife of grief through his black, lonely heart.


	9. Chapter 9

A/N: I've finally figured out how to edit my stories after posting them, so I finally got an author's note and all I have to say is that I may be going slow in my writing(more so than usual) for the next few weeks due to my return to the schooling system. I'm starting in college, and I need a little while to orientate myself before I can return to writing. Right now, I feel like I might be able to put aside a little writing time, but we'll see how that goes. Anyone who reads my stories is probably used to waiting. The next story I decide to write will probably turn out more organized, because I'm starting to really get this Fanfiction writing stuff. Even though the summer has ended in my corner of the world, its still summertime in the wizarding world. I hope you like this chapter, because I wanted to really explain why Hermione must keep her secret. Please review! :)

Disclaimer: I really don't own this stuff.

* * *

Hermione was going to leave for the Burrow tomorrow and yet, it would still be weeks before she saw Harry. She knew that the Order of the Phoenix had been holing up at the Burrow and when they came to bring her there, there would be no way to contact Harry. She paced the room going over her options. The way she saw it, there were only two. Both of which where severly dangerous for someone.

If she told Harry about what she had discovered about his scar, Harry would know her secret and her father would disinherit her. That would also mean that when the time came, she wouldn't have the power to save Harry.

If she didn't tell him, there was a possiblity that her father would discover it as well, and he could potentially possess Harry.

She stopped pacing and looked down at her desk before lunging for the stack of parchment. She scribbled something on it, folded the parchment and moved it to the top right-hand corner of the desk.

She quirked her head to look at her reflection in the mirror. She'd probably never forgive herself for this.

It was late in the afternoon when Wormtail glanced at the sky to take stock of the weather. He took note of an ominous cloud then did a double-take when he spotted a black speck in the distance. He watched the raven as it swooped over his head and dropped a rolled up piece of parchment from its beak. The raven circled once, cawed and flew off to go back to wherever it had come from. Wormtail lifted the parchment off the floor. He knew that he was meant to deliver it to his master, so he went back into the house.

'Master, a letter was brought by a raven.'

'So, my daughter has finally written to me.' Wormtail presented the rolled up parchment. The dark Lord reach out and curled his lengthy fingers around it. He unfurled it and read.

_I will soon be brought to the Order of the Phoenix. I will write what I discover. _

_ The Dark Lady_

'She is proving her true loyalty. I could never doubt my daughter. She has so much of myself in her.' Voldemort's lips turned up at the corners. He couldn't be more proud.

Harry flipped through the Sunday paper. Lately, the Muggle news held much more information than the news in the magic world with Fudge blocking _The Prophet_ from releasing any information about Voldemort's return. In the Muggle news, anything resembling dark magic could be found in things like strange weather and mysterious attacks. He flipped to the last page and skimmed it over quickly before throwing the paper down on his nightstand. Nothing. It seemed that Voldemort was waiting or planning, but what?

Something black shot into his room at that moment through the open window. Papers flew up, Hedwig shrieked, and Harry scrambled off the bed. He didn't even get a good look at the thing before it was gone. A startled Hedwig was still squawking in her cage. Harry shut the window and looked about the room. His gaze fell on a letter sitting on the end of his bed. It hadn't been there before.

He picked it up and studied it. He desperately wished he was of age and could simply reveal any dark magic that could be attached to the letter. The only thing he could do was open it and hope it wasn't cursed. Cautiously, he ripped above the unmarked wax seal and pulled out the parchment inside. Nothing happened. It was just an ordinary letter. He unfolded it and read:

_Julie's Diner by the subway._

_9:00_

Harry flipped the parchment and the envelope over to try to find any sign of who had sent it. There wasn't any, so Harry reread the message and tossed it onto his bed. He supposed that it would be unwise to go, but that would challenge his curiousity.

The matter of whether to go or not weighed heavily in his mind throughout the reat of the day. Harry looked over the letter one more time, trying to decide if it would be safe to go. Whoever sent it could have set a trap there, or perhaps, he would actually find out some sort of news. Finally, he decided that he should go anyway but go prepared for the worst.

When 9 o'clock rolled by, he stuffed his invisibility cloak in a bag and slipped his wand into his back pocket. He didn't bother telling his aunt and uncle he was leaving, but instead, walked carefully down the stairs and quietly out the front door. They wouldn't miss him at all.

He reached the intersection of Privet Drive and Monty Avenue before anyone even noticed he had left. His cousin, Dudley, stood across the street with his gang, which all turned to stare at Harry as he walked past.

'Hey Potter, where are you running off to?' yelled the boy named Malcolm.

Dudley stole a fearful glance at Malcolm, but when Piers made to walk up to Harry, he screwed his face up to one of indifference.

'Nowhere you need to know,' he retorted, eager to rush past them untroubled.

Dudley and the rest of his gang stayed where they were and shouted a number of insults Harry barely heard, but Piers fell into step behind him. 'I heard you're being shipped off every year to a school for criminals.'

It took a moment to register that Piers meant St. Brutus's Secure Centre for Incurably Criminal Boys which was the school his aunt and uncle told people he was attending. 'Yeah,' he answered vaguely.

'So are you considered dangerous or something? You never seemed criminal when we were younger.'

It was strange for Piers to have mentioned actually knowing him when he still went to the Muggle school. There was something else odd about the way he had said it. It didn't sound like he was taunting him or anything. He was going to ignore the question, but Piers caught up to him and was looking at him with a bizarre expectancy on his face. He allowed the words to just pour out of him without much thought. 'Yeah, I am.'

'You know, if it wasn't for D, I might actually-' Piers was cut off by a shout from the gang that they had left behind them. He never found out what he 'might actually' do. Piers stopped in his tracks and turned away without another word. Perhaps, he thought Harry should join their gang because of his reputation as a hardened hooligan. He had known Piers for years, and he had never even spoken to him without fearing for his safety. A feeling of discomfort writhed in his stomach, but Harry didn't slow his pace.

The diner was only about a twenty minute walk from his aunt and uncle's house, but those twenty minutes seemed to drag on as he became increasingly worried about the situation. When he rounded the corner and saw through the large windows of the diner a bushy haired figure, his worry dissipated leaving only excitement at the unexpected visit.

Hermione sat at the table in the center of the diner facing the doorway anxiously. She had made sure that the diner closed before 9 o'clock, so all she had to do was turn on the lights, and she and Harry could have the place to themselves. She consciously thought through the situation, trying to come up with a way to tell Harry this secret about his scar without revealing her secret about her real father. She hadn't come up with any ideas when she spotted the boy with messy black hair and bright green eyes as he strolled through the door and over to where she sat He dropped his invisibility cloak and wand on the table and took the seat across from her's.

'Hermione, what are you doing here?'

She hesitated a moment to follow a passing muggle with her eyes but then forced herself to speak. 'I have something to tell you.'

'It must be important if you came all the way out here to tell me rather than send it in a letter. How did you even get here?'

'That doesn't matter. Harry, I've come to warn you.'

'Warn me about what?'

'You-know-who,' she started, keeping her cover up until the last possible moment, 'is unaware of this, but you know how your scar hurts or you sometimes can feel what he is feeling?'

'Erm...yeah.'

'I think that he might be able to break into your mind using the connection your scar presents. He might even be able to possess you.'

Harry had the most blatant look of surprise stamped on his face. He seemed to be struggling to say something. 'I...erm...how...how do you know this?'

That was it. The one question she knew he would ask, but nearly the last in the world she would want to answer, besides the question _Are you Voldemort's daughter?_. As much as she had denied that she would ever tell him this particular secret of her's, she knew the time had come just as surely as she knew it was a Thursday.

'Harry, there something I've never told you. I never did, because I didn't want you to think differently of me or make any assumption before you got to know me. I don't even want to tell you now, because I don't want it to ruin our friendship.' She paused to see if Harry was going to say anything, but he didn't. 'I was raised by Muggles, but they are not my real parents. I have no idea who my mother is, but my father is...' Her nerves snapped. She was positive she would fall into hysterics but instead the name flew out of her mouth uncontrollably before she could stop it, before she could do anything to change what was going to happen. 'Voldemort.'

Harry tensed for what he knew was the first time he had ever reacted to that name. His mind automatically blocked it out at first, but then he had a flash of the memory which he had relived over and over again in his dreams of the night Cedric died. He suddenly remembered when he had seen a shadow in the distance in the graveyard that night. The image stood much more vividly than it had before. He could see a cloak billowing and a mane of bushy hair flying out from the head of the shadow. His mind connected the image to the girl who sat in front of him. He felt his control on his emotions slip away as the anger and sense of betrayal grew within him. His vision swam.

'His daughter? You never thought to mention that you are Voldemort's daughter? All those years, and now you tell me that you are the daughter of the wizard who killed my parents!' He stood up abruptly. 'You've probably been giving him information about me, about everything! All this time, you've just been lying!'

Hermione stood up slowly to level her eyesight with his. 'Harry, I never-' She stopped short when Harry's wand flew into her face. She put her hands up and talked slowly. She didn't want to have to fight him. 'I do not give him information. I am not on his side.'

'And how am I supposed to believe you?' He shouted.

'Why would I tell you about your scar but not my father if I was serving him?' She felt uncomfortable referring to Voldemort as her father in front of Harry, but she had said it on impulse. She watched as Harry considered it, and then dangerously heightened his wand so it pointed directly between her eyes.

'You probably just want me to think that so you can stay close to me, and when the day comes, you can help your _daddy_ to kill me!'

'This is insane! Put down the wand, Harry.'

'No! _Impedimenta!'_

Hermione pulled out her wand and flicked it to block the spell so quickly Harry had thought it hadn't worked at all.

'_Expelliarmus!' _He tried again, but Hermione's wand didn't move an inch until she lifted it and without saying anything, a jet of red light shot out and hit Harry square in the chest. He flew backwards with such force he landed only when he made contact with the wall on the opposite side of the diner. He raised his head and through the fog that clouded his mind from the power of the spell and the concrete of the diner wall he saw Hermione walk towards him. She walked with her wand raised at Harry and the tables and chairs sliding noisily out of her way. She came up close and rested the tip of her wand on his chest.

'I knew you wouldn't take this well, but I would never have thought..._Obliviate.' _She saw the anger in his eyes fade away leaving them thoughtlessly blank. 'You will go home. You will destroy the letter I sent you. You will not remember seeing me at all. You will only remember going for a walk.'

She strode over to where they had been sitting only a moment before and picked the cloak up off the floor. She returned to Harry and thrust it into his arms. 'Take this and go.'

She watched Harry walk out the door in a heavy daze, then fell into the nearest chair. She put her head in her hands and lost herself to her thoughts while her magic seeped out of her to restore the damage that had been done to the diner. Chairs and tables flew back into place and the small crack in the wall where Harry had hit it sealed up again. She suddenly remembered that he had hit that wall fairly hard. She raced to the door and stuck her head and her wand out. She murmured a spell that would heal Harry of his bruises and the bones she had likely broken. She sighed as his outline in the distance stumbled from the spell then continued on, otherwise undisturbed.

_Well, _she thought, _that was a complete waste of time. _


	10. Author's Note

Author's Note

In my last chapter, I added an author's note that said that I was starting college and needed time to orientate myself before I could do much writing. I ended up finishing my other story, Consumption, but Lady Hermione has taken a back seat. I am continuing the hiatus for a while longer, but I've finally picked up the pen again. Don't expect anything this week, but I hope to be able to get at least one chapter out this month. After that, I also hope to return to writing on a regular basis. I still have a lot that I want to write for this and as a warning, it may be a very long story by the time I'm done with it.

I'd better get back to writing. Wish me luck. :)

-Medantha*


	11. Chapter 10

The long awaited update is finally here! Hermione makes a secret trip in the middle of the night to do dark deeds. I hope to write another Draco/Hermione chapter but I haven't figured out the order of the next chapters that I want to write. I guess you'll have to do some more waiting to see if this story needs to have a higher rating or not. :) Enjoy and review.

Disclaimer: I still don't think that I own this.

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Hermione looked through the dark around her, trying to discern any shapes of watchful Muggles before she threw her wand out under the light of the streetlight. A bang echoed through the night as the double-decker bus shot out into the road in front of her. The doors swung open. "Where to?" asked the man that she knew to be Stan Shunpike.

She told him her destination and boarded the bus. Hermione swayed in her seat as the Knight Bus took turns and made stops. It seemed to be trying to lull her into the sleep that she had been rudely awoken from. But she could not sleep, not even for a second because she was on that bus to carry out the Dark Lord`s orders. She despised the thought of what she was about to do, yet there she was. The only reason that she despised it was because she had powerful feelings of hatred against That Witch. That Witch was an accumulation of everything that she risked her life fighting. The torturing, the killing, the apocalyptic dreaming were only but a few of the evils that That Witch adored.

Which was precisely why Hermione was in such a terrible mood about having to play a part in That Witch`s escape from Azkaban.

The bus stopped abruptly and Hermione stood to get off at the abandoned marina. As she passed Stan Shunpike, he said nervously, "Have a good evening Ms. Ruskin."

She gave him a warm smile and pushed the black hair of her disguise over her shoulder. She felt him watching her get off the bus before it disappeared to bring the other passengers to their bus stops. She had never had to go to the prison before, and she did not expect anyone to recognize her even without the disguise. Its only purpose was so that the guards would believe her excuse for being there.

The wizard at the marina called someone to bring her over the water. The wizard, who was likely also a guard at the prison, brought her over in a small wooden boat that hugged the movements of every wave. The wizard did not ask any questions or even look at her, which she deemed to be a very good thing because it gave her the chance to go over her story. She almost enjoyed the rocking motion of the boat and the look of the dark sky over the raging dark waters.

The boat sped up and began to make changes in direction probably so that the prison remained unmapped. It was not much longer that the boat slowed and they were suddenly heading towards the shadowy prison walls rising up from the rocky shores of the tiny piece of land in the middle of the ocean.

The entrance was a tunnel in the shoreline with torches dimly lighting the walls. The boat stopped at a small dock where two wizards in uniforms used long-handled probes to check the boat for dark objects. The wizard who had brought her over extended a piece of parchment to the guards. They read it and nodded to let them pass. The boat crept forward to a gate, which rose as they approached. There were another two guards and a Dementor waiting for them there. The wizard stepped out onto the dock and Hermione followed.

The Dementor hovered toward her and slowly began to extend one of its bony hands as though to take hold of her. She had done nothing to have the Dementors attack her, but perhaps it could tell that her blood was as black as any of the other prisoner's in Azkaban. She slipped her hand into the satchel on her hip and touched the wispy snake that she had created before leaving the house. She felt immediately filled with warmth and contentment, causing the Dementor to back away. She considered for a moment that she did not know why she had two different Patronuses. The otter, which seemed so much more innocent and right for her disguise, and the snake, which was as sly and ruthless as she was. Lying to everyone she had ever met took the cold and calculating demeanour of the snake, but she felt no less connected to the otter. As long as no one found out, she would just add it to the increasingly long list of the strange things about her.

One guard remained with the wizard from the marina while the other led her down the dock toward the prison. She was not surprised when he spoke. She expected to have to answer questions. "What business do you have here tonight?"

"I'm researching my family tree. I think that I may have a relative in here, but I want to find out for sure." It was a very weak excuse, but she could make any lie seem like the truth. It was a terrible, yet undeniably useful quality to have. The snake in her.

"And, who is this relative of yours?" He did not seem to care too much. She supposed that since she passed the Dementor's inspection that he must have decided that she was not likely to have suspicious reasons for being there. Besides, she was only an under aged witch. What sort of dark magic could she possibly have?

"Bellatrix Lestrange." He looked at her and she could tell that he was taking note of her features that could potentially mean that they are related. This was why she chose black hair and she had put on heavy makeup to hide the shape of her eyes, which were significantly different than That Witch's.

He seemed to have accepted this as the truth, when he said, "the Lestranges have a lot of relatives. I would not be surprised if you were related." That made her decision easier. _I guess I will tell him that we are related afterwards _she thought.

The Dementors moved back from them as they walked through the halls of the prison. The doors of the cells had only a small barred opening in them where wild eyes of the deranged prisoners watched them pass. Hermione paid close attention to the number of stairwells and cell doors before they came to a stop. She was meant to pass on the location of Bellatrix's cell to her father.

The guard did not really leave her alone, but he did give her the courtesy of walking down the hall a little way. Hermione expected that she would have to speak to Bellatrix through the little window in the door, but that wouldn't be a problem. She was only there to locate the cell and give That Witch a message.

The guard was far enough that he couldn't hear anything she was saying, but just in case, she shielded the area to keep the message exclusively for That Witch.

"_Muffliato"_ She was glad she had gathered the skill to watch a wizard perform a spell and replicate it. She had taken this one from Severus and it seemed to have worked, because no one reacted except Bellatrix when she spoke.

"Bellatrix, Are you in there?"

"Of course I'm in here!" she answered irritably. Her crazed black eyes peeked through the window and examined her. "My Lady"

Here tone was distasteful, but given their setting, Hermione decided to let it slip. "I've only come to ask you something for the Dark Lord. He says that without an appropriate response that he will be sure that you will never see life outside of this prison again." She waited a moment, but Bellatrix said nothing, so she continued. "You have let yourself be caught. You should know that you are useless to the Dark Lord if you are locked away."

"I was trying to save my Lord!" she rebutted.

"You have made yourself worthless. However, the Dark Lord sees that you were one of the few who remained constantly loyal to him. Now answer this, if the Dark Lord instructed you to remain in Azkaban without explanation, knowing that you cannot be of any use to him in here, should you follow his order or find a way out to be back with his Lordship?"

Bellatrix's eyes shifted as she fought with a reply. Hermione knew, as her father had, that if she chooses the first response than she will be seen as trusting and obedient but weak, and if she chooses the second response she will show the greatness of her love for her Lord, but she will seem untameable. She knew that what Bellatrix wanted more than anything was to be back with the Dark Lord, but she would have to choose carefully.

Finally, with her eyes looking at the floor, Bellatrix slowly and hesitantly answered. "I love my Lord greatly and I will always do as he asks because of that. I do not always know what plans the Dark Lord has for me, so I would follow his orders. However, the moment he allows me to return to him, I will join him at his side, ready to obey his next orders delightfully.

Hermione frowned. That Witch was going to go free. Not that she thought of working for her father as a pleasant experience, but crazy twisted suck-up witch was not worthy of being on anyone's right hand side. It was disappointing to see that the standards of how the Dark Lord chose his first mate were so low. It was an acceptable answer though, and she was working on his direct orders. "Good." She told her.

She relinquished the spell and walked towards the guard. Just as she had thought, the guard brought her to a room on the ground floor to fill out visitor forms. She had prepared information to have written for these forms, but that was not why she needed to be in this room. There was a door through which, she assumed was where the wands of the prisoners were kept. With her own wand in hand, it took a few complex spells and enchantments to retrieve the wands of the Death Eaters in the prison.

_Partum tractus vicis. Addo mihi virga. Non animaadverto._

It was only a fraction of a second before the spells took effect. Hermione was thrown through a thin crack in time, which felt cool and dark like a cavern but filled with the pressure of nothingness. It was much more benign than apparating, and yet more empty. Just a void, a benign void. The spell didn't actually send her through time like one would assume. It sent her through space without changing the time and without apparating or disapparating. She merely had to summon what she needed before the spell returned her to where she was before. She returned with several wands of the Death Eaters in the bag on her shoulder. She wasn't sure that the guards would check her bag before she left but she was prepared for that as well with a shielding spell that was for shielding magical objects specifically. This turned out to not be necessary, and after filling out the visitors forms, she was brought back to the marina just as the sun began to reach over the horizon.

She knew that her time was almost up, so instead of taking the Knight Bus again, she walked out of the boundaries of the marina and apparated onto the hill on the outskirts of the property of the Burrow.

Hermione extracted the wands from her bag and looked down at them. She would send these to the Dark Lord via owl, and then the Death Eaters will have their weapons for when they are freed. Guiding Harry towards the destruction of her father was hard enough as it was, but then she had to go and be the one bringing her father closer to victory.

_Psychiatrists would have a field day with me_, she thought.

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